


La Mort D'Amour

by irithyll



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Leon is just a baby, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, thanks i hate it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 02:30:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18240578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irithyll/pseuds/irithyll
Summary: Leon always knew that he'd die to the hands of a Redfield...just not like this.





	La Mort D'Amour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xaori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xaori/gifts).



Leon knows that one of the Redfield siblings will be the end of him, but he isn’t sure which will be the one to deliver the final deathblow. In the past, he had always assumed it would be Chris and he had developed an entire laundry list of the ways in which the older man could potentially end his life. Yes, Leon was a cop and yeah, he had quite a few zombie kills under his belt, but the laws of physics didn’t quite take kill-death ratios into account and Leon supposed he was probably a hundred pounds lighter and a million times weaker than the hulk of a man who was Claire’s brother.

Unexpectedly, all of his musings had quickly been thrown out the window tonight. Maybe Chris wouldn’t be the one to put the final nail in his coffin.

Leon was now convinced that Claire would be the one to end him with the sway of her hips and the little coy smile that danced across her lips. The way she traipsed about the ballroom in that slinky red dress made him forget all about a particular spy whose name he couldn’t quite recall as he followed the long curve of her neck to the smooth flesh of her chest and the dip between her breasts.

He nearly leapt out of his own skin when he felt a heavy-handed slap on the back and whipped around to find Kevin’s disapproving glare.

“You got a death wish, rookie?” He gave Leon a swift slap to the back of the head, eliciting an exaggerated whine from the younger cop.

“That’s Redfield’s fucking _sister_.” Kevin hissed and glanced quickly in her direction, ensuring that his eyes didn’t linger too long on her frame lest the S.T.A.R.S. pointman somehow find out that he had the audacity to even acknowledge his baby sister’s existence.

Leon grunted quietly to himself and averted his gaze to the floor as he scuffed the sole of his shoe against the tile out of both embarrassment and feigned interest in something that wasn’t Claire Redfield and her _fucking_ dress.

“Y-yeah. I know.” He wanted to punch himself for the waver in his voice. Was he a damn high school kid?

Claire sure made him feel like one as she breezed about the dance floor with Rebecca in a flurry of girlish laughter and a hemline that rose _just_ enough to suggest the toned muscle that may lie beneath.

He wondered if she would ever even consider allowing him to find out just what was hidden beneath that snug little dress.

“Redfield’s got plenty of friends in the right places to help cover up a murder. Stay frosty, kid.”

And with that, Kevin meandered off, leaving Leon to wonder when the officer had gotten so _damn_ annoying.

He allowed his attention to skirt over the dance floor one last time, but was met with a pair of bright blue eyes that he had become all too familiar with in his daydreams.

Leon swallowed hard as Claire stared back at him, something he couldn’t quite place twinkling in her eyes. She held his gaze calmly and confidently with that Redfield stubbornness he had observed a hundred times in her brother, but, somehow, it wasn’t quite infuriating on her.

And then she winked at him, her long, dark lashes batting against the pale skin of her cheek briefly.

Leon blinked--once, twice, and then a third time.

Did Claire Redfield just _wink_ at him?

He felt his heart flutter in the base of his throat and he attempted, in vain, to swallow it back down all while Claire flashed him a broad smile, all perfect white teeth and prettily painted lips that made him want to discover the taste of her.

When she sauntered over to him, he questioned whether or not he was hallucinating.

“Leon S. Kennedy.” She greeted, his name rolling off her tongue with a melodious quality that made him want to beg her to repeat it.

He nodded curtly and frantically scanned the room for her brother. “Claire…”

Leon let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when he caught sight of the back of the mountain of a man who was deeply engaged in conversation with his fellow S.T.A.R.S.

A light, tinkling bout of laughter came from Claire and she stepped in close, lips just barely hovering above the shell of his ear.

“Relax,” She whispered, breath nearly scalding against his skin, “I told him you’re gay.”

The sweetness of her voice distracted him momentarily, but when he finally processed what she had said, he jerked his head towards her at near neck-breaking speed.

“You _what?_ ”

Claire laughed and he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Jesus, Claire...he’s my _superior_! I’m never gonna live this down.”

Despite his despair, he couldn’t quite ignore the stirring between his thighs as she stepped back and crossed her arms across her chest, emphasizing the swell of her breasts.

“You...know I’m not gay, right?” His voice was shaken, unsure, but the wandering of his eyes did not go unnoticed.

She crossed her arms more tightly, causing more flesh to spill from the low neckline of her dress.

“You’re not?” She asked, amusement in her voice.

“No.” He choked out, tilting his head upwards to stare at the ceiling and pray for mercy.

It wasn’t as suave as he had hoped it would be, but Claire gave him one of those sideways smirks that made him weak in the knees anyway.

“Prove it.”

He floundered, lips parting and closing in repeated succession as he fumbled for words. Claire watched him struggle momentarily before moving forward once again, this time allowing her lips to graze across his cheek along the journey to his ear.

“ _F_ _uck me._ ” She insisted, and Leon’s entire world began to spin so swiftly that he wasn’t sure he was still standing.

“Claire.” His voice was gruff this time and he held his eyes closed in fear that the sight of her would inspire a more primal part of him to strip her naked right then and there.

_Relax. Breathe in. Out. In. Out._

“Are you drunk?” He asked, his own blue eyes finally reopened to the world.

Claire shook her head, the movement causing dark tendrils of hair to fall loose from their pins and obscure her eyes.

“Not _that_ drunk.” She grinned again, and Leon frowned in return.

Her lower lip jut forward into a pout and she tilted her head to the side, curious.

“I’m serious. Should I walk the line for you, officer?”

She gestured towards the strip of navy tile that framed the edges of the cream colored floor and Leon considered saying yes, if only to watch the sweep of her hips as she strutted.

“Ah, no.” He hooked the edge of his index finger around the collar of his shirt in order to tug it just slightly away from his heated skin.

And Claire laughed as she took him by the hand, leading him away from that crowded ballroom, and despite the sight of the curve of her backside and the open back of her dress, he couldn’t ignore how comfortably her slender fingers fit between his.

* * *

 

She kissed him with purpose, firm presses of petal soft lips and a careful graze of teeth across his lower lip. The sensation made him gasp and she took advantage of it, allowing her tongue to dart between his lips and find his.

He groaned into her mouth, eyes clenching shut as he reveled in the taste of her. Claire Redfield tasted like cinnamon and cream and something he didn’t quite know the name of, but he figured it was probably his new favorite flavor. Kissing her was better than he ever could have imagined, and Leon found himself cupping her face in his hands to better angle her beneath him in order to savor her more fully.

Claire smiled against his mouth and maneuvered herself into his lap, causing his eyes to nearly roll back into his head. Even through the thick, starched material of his dress pants, Leon could feel the heat of her. Her legs were pressed against either side of his hips and he allowed one hand to wander, palm pressed against the sleek skin of her thigh as it traveled.

She broke away from his mouth but continued with her affection as she pressed wet, heated kisses against the length of his throat. Leon moaned from both the sensation and the revelation that the cool press of metal beneath his fingertips was the zipper to her dress.

He gave it a gentle tug, undoing only a few teeth at the top of the length of her zipper. It was an unspoken question, an _are you really sure about this_ , and Claire picked up the meaning in an instant.

Her response was to reach behind her back to find his hand and guide it to the base of her spine, the zipper pull in tow.

The straps of her dress fell forward from her shoulders, coming to rest at her upper arms and exposing the delicate, frilled edge of her black lingerie.

If it was reminiscent of another woman he knew, he didn’t realize it. In fact, in that moment, he wasn’t even sure that other women existed. Claire was one of a kind and he thanked every deity he could name for gracing him with such luck.

Claire studied his face as she rose onto her knees, still straddling his hips as the top half of her dress slid away from her body. Her hair fell in messy waves around her face, lips flushed with something more than the color she had painted them with.

She held his face in her palms as she lowered herself back onto his lap, red fabric pooled around her hips

Leon might have died in that moment, but it didn’t matter. The sight of all her pale skin contrasted by the inky fabric of her lingerie was enough to drive him wild. He greedily took in the sight of her, taut skin and full breasts that he felt deserved to be freed from the tiny little balconette bra she wore.

So he did just that. Leon tucked his finger beneath the bow that sat between her breasts and carefully pulled downwards while mentally praising whoever decided to invent the strapless bra. With the slow, steady motion, Claire’s breasts were freed, perky on her chest and topped with petal pink nipples that made him groan.

He embraced her and buried his face against her sternum, a laugh forming in his throat. This was nothing like it was late at night in his bedroom, dick in hand as he tried to picture the sight of her beside him in his bed. No, it was _better_.

Claire raked her hands through his hair and he moved down her body, lips ghosting over skin until he enclosed the tip of her breast with his mouth. She let out a soft cry of both surprise and pleasure, and Leon was delighted to find that Claire sounded even better than he imagined.

She curled her fingers at his back to take a fistful of his shirt and yanked at it expectantly and, as much as he wanted to return her teasing, he found himself to be far too impatient to keep up the rouse. With an audible _pop,_  he unlatched himself from her chest and peeled off his shirt in one quick motion.

Claire was not disappointed to find the sleek, toned muscle that hid beneath. Leon had both the face and the physique of a supermodel, far too _pretty_ to be a street cop.

She appreciated his body with lips and teeth, exploring every hard plane and chiseled ridge of muscle he had to offer.

“ _Claire_.”

She smiled against his skin and allowed her tongue to lave at the bone of his hip, all while watching him through heavily lidded eyes.

Much to her surprise, he allowed his hips to gently buck against her, and she pulled at the zipper of his pants at a pace so slow that he was sure he _would_ die.

When she freed him from the fabric confines of his pants, she rested her cheek against his thigh and watched his cock spring free to stand proudly before her face. Leon thought maybe he should feel embarrassed by the closeness, but the notion was quickly drowned by the heat of her mouth as it enveloped him.

He hissed and _whimpered,_  completely and utterly taken by surprise. Claire allowed the flat of her tongue to trail along the underside of his length while she traced slow, reassuring circles against his inner thigh with her thumb.

And then she started to _move_ , bobbing her head back and forth, his manhood audibly wet with a thin sheen of her saliva. His eyelids closed and he felt as though his eyes were burning beneath his skin, his body becoming light and...and…

“Claire, I _can’t_.” He grit out between clenched teeth, and she looked up at him with those round blue eyes.

With one last, long drag of her lips, she released him, lips damp and flushed.

She stood to slide her dress over her hips and allowed it to pool onto the floor, leaving her absolutely bare before him.

Leon was going to have a fucking heart attack at the realization that she had worn _nothing_ under that flirty little hemline to that ball.

Claire climbed over him and settled herself on his thighs as she took him into her hand, still slick with her saliva as she pumped him slowly with her fist. His back arched and he whimpered, catching his lower lip between his teeth.

“Claire, _really_.”

Without warning, she lowered herself onto him, allowing the entire length of him to drive into her. He gasped and found fistfuls of the bedsheets as she threw her head back, a long, low moan tearing from her throat as she stretched around him.

And she started to _move_ again, differently this time, rocking her hips back and forth. She rode him like her life depended on it, the only sounds between them being their shared mewls and the audible slickness of her.

Leon couldn’t bear it.

His hands found her hips and he held her still as he bucked his own, driving in and out of her from below with abandon.

Claire’s nails raked down the front of his chest and she grew impossibly tight around him, causing his vision to fade to white as every muscle of his body seemed to burst into flame.

Once the post-coital haze cleared from his mind, he tugged her to him and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Claire made a quiet sound and nuzzled against his neck, sated.

"Not bad for a  _gay_ man." She teased, and Leon snorted in response.

They fell into a comfortable silence as he idly trailed his fingertips along the smooth expanse of her back, committing the curve to memory.

“Claire?” He asked, idly twirling her hair around his finger.

“Hm?” She remained limp against him, entirely spent.

“I always thought Chris would be the one to try to kill me, but…”

“La mort d’amour,” She murmured, “But it was worth it, wasn’t it?”

Leon paused for a moment and looked down at her, curled up on his chest with her dark hair spilling over his arm and her lips parted to allow shallow, sleepy breaths to escape.

“Yeah,” he whispered, pulling her closer, “Every last second of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> For Xaori, the biggest Cleon shipper I know, as thanks for enduring my psychotic fan-musings and encouraging me to write even though I have no idea what I'm doing.
> 
> I have no idea what type of alternate universe this exists in, so let's just overlook that small detail.


End file.
